The Crooked One's Pawn
by Bright Silver Lady of Midnight
Summary: When Luke's hatred allowed Kronos to start speaking to him in his mind, Kronos put ideas into Luke's head. Ideas that would end in many people's deaths. Ideas that would end in his own death. Round three of PowerofWords12's contest.


The purpose of this round was to pick a quote that inspires the writer, and write a fic about it. I chose a Voltaire quote, which is listed below.

_Anyone who has the power to make you believe absurdities has the power to make you commit injustices. _

-X-

Luke Castellan sat on the edge of one of Camp Half-Blood's docks. His feet dangled over the edge, his toes skimming the surface of the lake and causing ripples that passed through to the other side.He stared down at the lake, brooding over his anger with the Fates.

_First Thalia... _Luke thought to himself, absentmindedly scratching at the bandage that covered most of the right side of his face. _Now this...._

It was just ridiculous. Luke inhaled deeply and held his breath, a technique he'd been using for years to calm his explosive temper. Once he was sure he wasn't going to scream, he slowly let the breath out through his mouth. Again he reached up to his bandage, this time rubbing where the dragon's claws had torn into his flesh.

If Thalia was there, it would've been different, he knew. That also angered him. If Zeus could remember the only damn child he'd had since 1945, Thalia could've been right by his side, and half of his face wouldn't be missing. He shouldn't have let her fight those Cyclopses alone. There were too many for two people as tired as they were to fight them off, so the outcome would've been much the same. For Thalia, at least.

That make Luke clench his hands into fists. What would _his _father have done? Nothing, probably. His father probably wouldn't have even known something was wrong with Luke, if he even knew Luke's name, until about... well, until about when Luke was granted his quest. Hermes was a terrible father, in Luke's opinion.

No, not a father, he decided a second later. A sperm donor who doesn't remember anniversaries or birthdays, but occasionally handed out gifts or what _he_ considered gifts.

Poor Thalia... poor Annabeth. The kid was seven damn years old, for Fates' sake. A cute little blond girl was tortured by cyclopses, her deadbeat lazy-ass Historian father, and Zeus knows what else. What _the hell_ was going through Athena's mind when she left her _own child_ with that jerk? And this business of 'brain babies.' Puh-lease, Luke thought to himself. That's a load of bull and we all know it.

Again he cursed Fate for the terrible circumstances that he and his closest friends were being put under. Why did they seem to have something against him? Thalia-

"_Are you going to sit here and cry about your dead girlfriend, or are you going to _do_ something?" _A cold voice, a terrible voice said in Luke's mind. It was like a blade being dragged across a stone. Luke clamped his hands over his ears while his head shot up.

"Who's there?" Luke demanded. Around him, nothing had moved. There was no sign of life other than himself.

The voice in his head laughed. "_Boy," _it said. "_It's not the Fates you hate._"

"Yes it _is_," Luke said, a little annoyed at this invisible person for telling him who he did and didn't hate.

"_Boy, listen here. The Fates are a neutral party. Who sent those Cyclopses after you in the first place?"_

"Hera," Luke answered out loud, lowering his hands back to the dock.

That bitch. She'd been married to Zeus for eons. She knew he cheated on her with literally thousands of women. Luke didn't care if she was the goddess of marriage and therefore getting a divorce would make her position somewhat useless. Marry someone who will be faithful, why don't you?

"_Who left Annabeth with her deadbeat bastard father?"_

"Athena," he answered out loud again.

_Where did those monsters come from?_

"The Underworld," Luke answered.

"_Hades' domain,"_ the voice paused, waiting for Luke's response.

"Yes," he answered.

_Who left you with your mother without a scrap of help?_

Luke's hands clenched into fists. "_Hermes_," he spat.

"_Whose fault was it that your mother was like that in the first place?"_

Luke's only answer was a confused look.

The voice laughed. "_Apollo," _it said. "_Who gave Thalia so much strife over hunters, virgins, and immortality on your way to this place?" _

"Artemis," Luke answered.

_Who turned Thalia into a tree and then forgot about her?_

Luke clenched his teeth, "Zeus."

"_Who never sent so much as a 'it'll be okay' when you needed help?"_

"_Hermes_," Luke spat again.

"_Who never helped you when your mother was in the middle of one of her fits?"_

"Hermes."

_What do they all have in common?_

Realization dawned on Luke. "They're gods."

_Who do you _really_ hate?_

"The gods."

_Don't you think they should be punished?_

"Yes," Luke was growing with excitement.

_You'll need my help, then, boy._

"Yes," Luke said.

_You'll swear your loyalty to me on the Styx._

"Yes," Luke said again, smiling now.

There was a brief pause, in which the only thing that moved was the lake's surface.

"Who are you?" Luke asked.

The voice laughed again. _I am Kronos, boy. The Crooked One, the Titan of time._

Luke wasn't afraid. He was still consumed with his hatred of the gods, his anger over Thalia, Annabeth, his face, his mother... over everything they'd done. It would end. Nobody would ever have to go through what he went through ever again.


End file.
